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One Summer Night

The fact that Henry Armstrong was buried did not seem to him to prove that he was dead: he had always been a hard man to convince. That he really was buried, the testimony of his senses compelled him to admit. His posture -- flat upon his back, with his hands crossed upon his stomach and tied with something that he easily broke without profitably altering the situation -- the strict confinement of his entire person, the black darkness and profound silence, made a body of evidence impossible to controvert and he accepted it without cavil.

But dead -- no; he was only very, very ill. He had, withal, the invalid's apathy and did not greatly concern himself about the uncommon fate that had been allotted to him. No philosopher was he -- just a plain, commonplace person gifted, for the time being, with a pathological indifference: the organ that he feared consequences with was torpid. So, with no particular apprehension for his immediate future, he fell asleep and all was peace with Henry Armstrong.

But something was going on overhead. It was a dark summer night, shot through with infrequent shimmers of lightning silently firing a cloud lying low in the west and portending a storm. These brief, stammering illuminations brought out with ghastly distinctness the monuments and headstones of the cemetery and seemed to set them dancing. It was not a night in which any credible witness was likely to be straying about a cemetery, so the three men who were there, digging into the grave of Henry Armstrong, felt reasonably secure.

Two of them were young students from a medical college a few miles away; the third was a gigantic negro known as Jess. For many years Jess had been employed about the cemetery as a man-of-all-work and it was his favourite pleasantry that he knew 'every soul in the place.' From the nature of what he was now doing it was inferable that the place was not so populous as its register may have shown it to be.

Outside the wall, at the part of the grounds farthest from the public road, were a horse and a light wagon, waiting.

The work of excavation was not difficult: the earth with which the grave had been loosely filled a few hours before offered little resistance and was soon thrown out. Removal of the casket from its box was less easy, but it was taken out, for it was a perquisite of Jess, who carefully unscrewed the cover and laid it aside, exposing the body in black trousers and white shirt. At that instant the air sprang to flame, a cracking shock of thunder shook the stunned world and Henry Armstrong tranquilly sat up. With inarticulate cries the men fled in terror, each in a different direction. For nothing on earth could two of them have been persuaded to return. But Jess was of another breed.

In the grey of the morning the two students, pallid and haggard from anxiety and with the terror of their adventure still beating tumultuously in their blood, met at the medical college.

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'You saw it?' cried one.

'God! yes -- what are we to do?'

They went around to the rear of the building, where they saw a horse, attached to a light wagon, hitched to a gatepost near the door of the dissecting-room. Mechanically they entered the room. On a bench in the obscurity sat the negro Jess. He rose, grinning, all eyes and teeth.

'I'm waiting for my pay,' he said.

Stretched naked on a long table lay the body of Henry Armstrong, the head defiled with blood and clay from a blow with a spade.

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Average: 5 (2 votes)

Comments

Submitted by admin on Wed, 09/02/2009 - 08:58

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seemed rather lazy and uninspired. the space with which to draw ones own conclusion appears to have been abused here. sure we can use our imaginations but the writer is responsible for the construction of depth and reason. the writer has presented a few flat characters and an absurd situation - leaving the bulk of storytelling to the reader.

Submitted by admin on Wed, 11/18/2009 - 12:01

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a bad story

Submitted by admin on Sat, 12/12/2009 - 12:28

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I can hardly comprehend all of the negative comments this story has evoked. The only criticism I have is that it doesnt belong in the horror category. It is quite the comedy, I find. "He rose, grinning, all eyes and teeth. Im waiting for my pay." Very funny. Racist - but funny. Especially that hed killed Henry Armstrong with a spade and considered it part of the job!

A great story. Coincidentally, I only recently came across The Devils Dictionary and Ambrose Bierce for the first time. Rather interesting fellow, he was.

Submitted by admin on Thu, 04/15/2010 - 16:40

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An excellent idea told from an unusual perspective but why all the forced long words? Are you trying to impress with your knowledge of the English language? If so, it only serves to distract from what is quite a clever story.

Submitted by admin on Thu, 04/29/2010 - 04:23

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I really enjoyed this story. The beginning was kind of confusing, as the reader can’t be totally sure that the character is dead in a coffin, or what. The author took great pains at the beginning of the story with lots of description. Yet, the suspense and the ending of the story seems overly-rushed, which sort of leaves the reader wanting more of the story, which isn’t there. I also would not consider this to be horror, although the story is labeled under ‘horror’ stories. I was a bit disappointed with this one.

www.stacylynnmar.com

Submitted by admin on Mon, 11/01/2010 - 11:24

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I found this story more funny than scary. I found the beginning was hard to comprehend. But at the end it was funny how he was smilling and killed the man with a spade shovel! i didnt understand at the start if he was died or not but i figured it out at the end but again not the greatest story to be under houror this story could be under humor.

Submitted by admin on Wed, 12/01/2010 - 13:47

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It was a nice story, but why were they digging in the mans grave in the first place? I was under the impression that they were grave robbing, but then Jess asked for pay after having killed Armstrong... were they there to kill him? If not, whys he getting paid?

Submitted by admin on Mon, 02/28/2011 - 18:37

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It started good, but (no offense) the ending is just bad.
Also, the story drifts from the perspective of a guy
that was buried alive to the one of some random
dudes taking him out of his grave and giving him a
fatal blow anyway -.-

Submitted by admin on Mon, 11/11/2013 - 23:48

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I liked this one. The ending was great and made me laugh. Ambrose Bierce was always different and that is why I like his writings. Sort of fixated on death though it seems. At least he has fun with it!

Submitted by admin on Tue, 03/03/2015 - 09:37

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For anyone who is confused, the two medical students were looking for a body that they could (not stated but Im geussing) expiriment on. And they hired Jess, who has a sidline job apart from bring the cemetary caretaker: he sells recently pronounced dead corpses. So that is why he finishes off Henry Armsrong and asks the students for his money. I quite like this story

Submitted by admin on Mon, 04/29/2019 - 08:58

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This is lit

Submitted by admin on Sun, 08/20/2023 - 02:40

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wow nice

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